


nothing stands between us here (and I won’t be denied)

by ChloeNyme



Series: Through This World I've Stumbled [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: College, Consensual Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit content is consensual F/M, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, MJ is still observant, No Avengers mentioned, Past Sexual Abuse, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Content, Still, mention of Skip Westcott, sexual abuse is not-explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 09:37:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15167861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeNyme/pseuds/ChloeNyme
Summary: The road to recovery is a long one filled with crater-sized potholes.Or, MJ continues to be the best girlfriend in existence, except for the times where she isn't. Relationships are hard like that.





	nothing stands between us here (and I won’t be denied)

**Author's Note:**

> Series and story installment taken from Possession by Sarah McLachlan. Despite the fact MJ would never listen to Sarah McLachlan, something about it just seemed to fit the series. 
> 
> Please read ‘Uncharted Territory’ first. This story is a bit more graphic than the first installment but still nothing explicit discussed from Peter’s past.

MJ thrived at college life. At Columbia, she was just one more smart kid in a sea of smart kids. She cherished seamlessly blending into the background. Her major in biochemistry and minor in political science kept her days busy in lecture halls and labs and her nights sprawled over the wooden desk chair in her dorm room.

 

Peter had questioned the odd pairing of focuses. Hell, everyone questioned it when it was mentioned, with quirked eyebrows and side comments of how “interesting” that must be. She knew her political science minor was the equivalent of an expensive framed piece of paper, however she figured if she was going to read books by Karl Marx and Noam Chomsky in her free time, she might as well get something to show for it.

 

Meanwhile, Peter seemed keen on keeping up with his web-slinging activities all hours of the day and night. She sometimes wondered how well that worked with his biophysics course load at Empire State, but she kept her mouth shut. Peter’s academic life was Peter’s business. Plus, first year was mostly Communication 101 and Basic English for Freshies regardless of the major. Peter could probably pass them in his sleep, she knew she practically was.

 

Luckily, this gave them the opportunity to see each other on a fairly regular basis. That and the fact Peter could traverse the distance between Empire State and Columbia U in less than twenty minutes. With Spider-Man’s help, of course.

 

She had only been in her dorm room for six weeks and already Peter’s items were strewed across it like it was his own. Luckily, she ended up with a single room. She was pretty sure the fact she had highlighted the option and added multiple stars on her preference sheet likely had something to do with it.

 

She was sitting at her desk underneath her loft bed when she heard the telltale sound of the window sliding open. She glanced down at the clock on her laptop, surprised to see it was already past midnight. She swore it was still light out a second ago.

 

“Honey, I’m home!” Peter called, jumping sideways through the small window and landing gracefully.

 

Unamused, MJ turned her chair to see him still in full Spider-Man garb. “What’d I say about Spider-Man banter?”

 

“Keep it to Spider-Man activities.”

 

Peter quickly removed his mask, sweat matting his hair against his forehand.

 

“Come here. You look ridiculous.” MJ stood and quickly combed her fingers through his hair, trying to be careful around various knots.

 

Peter easily looked over her shoulder towards her mini fridge. “What’s for dinner?”

 

Giving up on the lost cause that was his hair, she placed both hands on his shoulders. “It’s after midnight. Also, and I cannot stress this enough, I am not your personal chef.”

 

“No wonder I’m hungry.” He completely ignored the second comment, sidestepping around her.

 

While she appreciated the soundproofing the cement walls provided, she swore the design for her eight by twelve foot dorm room was taken from a prison. The complete lack of a kitchen made healthy living borderline impossible, but a hotplate, microwave and mini fridge provided her enough options to keep herself sustained. She refused to live on ramen and hot pockets like the average college student. Just because she had a few in her freezer for back-up didn’t mean anything. Honest.

 

Peter quickly tore open the box of hot pockets and threw a few in the microwave. “I’ll buy you a new box.”

 

MJ rolled her eyes and turned back towards her laptop. “Don’t bother. They’re disgusting.”

 

A minute later, Peter grabbed a lukewarm hot pocket and hopped on top of her loft bed to play on his phone, legs relaxed against the wall and head hanging upside down off the edge.

 

Show off.

 

-*-

 

It was late into the night when she finally finished her lab report. She would have likely finished much sooner if Peter wasn’t so damn distracting. She was fairly positive the boy couldn’t win the silent game if his life depended on it.

 

Face illuminated by his phone, Peter looked over at her as MJ climbed the last rung of the bed and clumsily crawled up towards his side. Thank God her ineptitude wasn’t a turn off.

 

She slid against his body, her head resting just above his shoulder. The intimate space of the ridiculously small bed provided at least one obvious benefit. Peter turned off his phone and placed it on the ledge beside them, submersing them in complete darkness.

 

Making out in the dark was always a fun turn on for MJ. It slightly elevated her other senses while reducing them to fumbling hands and misplaced touches. She rolled over slightly, placing a tentative kiss on the side of Peter’s mouth, before finding its mark and sinking in deeper.

 

Peter relaxed into the kiss, his oncoming arousal becoming obvious through his boxers against her thigh. She could feel his deep breaths when they broke apart. “MJ, it’s getting pretty late,” he stated as he threaded one hand through her curly hair at the base of her neck.

 

Nice try. “Good thing we don’t have any eight am classes tomorrow then.” She punctuated the rebuttal with a few kisses against his neck.

 

He always did this when they started their nighttime activities past what he deemed to be an appropriate bedtime. He presented the tiniest amount of resistance, so then the next morning when she was forced awake by her blaring alarm clock and barely functional without coffee, he could easily shoulder all of the blame onto her. She would inevitably call him out on the asshole move, only to see mock innocence as he mixed a large helping of sugar into his own coffee.

 

Still kissing his neck and collarbone, she crossed her arms to remove her shirt. He quickly removed his own. Gotta love the single minded focus of the teenage male.  

 

She slowly moved her hips against his thigh and roamed her hands over his chest, careful to not travel too low. In return, Peter’s hands wandered across her bare back, massaging muscles tense from spending all day in a hard chair. 

 

The foreplay was humid and hot, both of them totally engrossed in the other’s body. It ended with them both fumbling to remove each other’s bottoms. MJ scooted upward to move herself on top of him, when Peter’s voice stopped her.

 

“I…I want to try…” he exhaled, gripping his fingers around her waist.

 

MJ paused above him, waiting for him to finish the sentence. When nothing was forthcoming, she found the soft reflection of light in his eyes amidst the darkness. “What?” she sighed, anxious to continue.

 

Peter swallowed. “I want to try…you know? I want you to-“ She vaguely made out his hand gesturing towards his aroused member.

 

Comprehension quickly dawned on MJ. “Oh! Okay. Are you sure?” Peter always suavely avoided past attempts, and MJ knew enough about his past to not press.

 

Peter earnestly nodded, “Yeah.”

 

“Okay.” MJ quickly slid her naked body down his, enjoying the friction against her own parts. Keeping eye contact, she wrapped her hand around his length and leisurely moved it up and down.

 

Peter gasped slightly and nodded. MJ wrapped her mouth around the tip and lightly sucked in response. While she didn’t get the gruesome details of all the abuses Peter suffered, she assumed receptive mouth play wasn’t one of them.

 

She continued the motion a few more times before glancing back up, keeping the same pace with her hand. While his body was positively responding, she needed verbal confirmation.

 

She locked eyes with him again and raised her eyebrows.

 

“That’s…good,” Peter stuttered. “I’m good.”

 

MJ enthusiastically dipped her head back down. It was such a relief to finally explore Peter in ways she only imagined when she explored herself. After her own relentless, creative imaginings, it was almost too much of a turn on, and she quickly lost herself in the movements. Peter continued to gasp and tense above her, providing enough encouragement to continue.

 

She was well into the ministrations when she glanced upwards, hoping the eye contact would ease Peter along. But instead of finding flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, she saw clenched eyes and the gleam of tears, his breaths shuddering through his chest.

 

As if burnt, MJ immediately let go of him and pushed herself against the side wall. “Peter! What the hell?!” she exclaimed without thought. Holy fuck, she was getting turned on while he was looking like _that_. She brought her hands to her own mouth, “Shit. Shit. I mean…shit.”

 

Peter remained tense in front of her, eyes squeezed shut and hands gripping the sheets on either side of him.

 

She scooted towards his head and tentatively brushed a stray hair off his sweaty forehead. “Peter,” she called, hoping to snap him back to their shared reality.  

 

He opened his eyes and blankly stared at her, eyes wide and wet even in the darkness. “Stop…please stop,” he gasped.

 

MJ removed her hand and leaned back, providing him as much space as possible on the cramped bed. “Okay. Okay. I stopped.”

 

Peter whined in response and violently shook his head, closing his eyes and clenching the sheets again.

 

Crap. Crap. Crap. Everything had failed so quickly and spectacularly, MJ wished she had a moment to catch her breath. She leaned over Peter, careful not to accidently brush against him, and grabbed his phone from the ledge. Hovering over him, she quickly turned on the flashlight app and left it pointed towards the ceiling.

 

She hoped it provided enough illumination to show Peter where he was, and, more importantly, where he wasn’t.

 

She made her way back to her corner. “Peter, this is MJ speaking. You’re in my dorm room. Everything’s okay,” she spoke calmly, trying not to feel like the biggest liar in existence.

 

She continued her meaningless platitudes until Peter took a deep, trembling breath and opened his eyes. Flexing his hands, his eyes roamed across the ceiling without moving his head until finally landing on her.

 

“Hey, you with me?” she softly asked, hands clasped together in front of her bare chest.

 

He looked down at the foot of the bed. MJ didn’t bother asking what he was looking for. She was fairly positive she knew and she was certain she wasn’t going to like the response. “Peter?” she questioned again.

 

“Yeah,” he breathed, muscles loosening. “I’m here.”

 

MJ relaxed against the wall. “Good. That’s good.”

 

Later, after she dressed herself and helped his shaky limbs into his own shirt and boxers, he quietly wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into his chest, welcoming the embrace.

 

“I’m sorry,” Peter muttered into her hair.

 

MJ shook her head against his collarbone. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.” She reached up and placed her palm on his chest.  “You just can’t do that to me again. You need to say something,” she firmly stated. She refused to be a trigger to Peter’s fucked up past.

 

Peter squeezed her tighter and nodded in response.

 

-*-

 

MJ tried to find the fucker. Not physically. She hoped she never ran into him. She wasn’t sure she would be able to control the homicidal rage bubbling beneath the surface at the mere thought of the man. She just assumed knowing where he ended up would give her some sense of closure. Or relief. Or something besides the unabated anger she only let out when she was alone in her dorm room.

 

Regardless, the asshole was difficult to find. What kind of dipshit parents name their kid Skip anyway? It was likely a nickname, which left her even more in the dark, trying to guess what ‘Skip’ could have been short for. Skipper? Skippy? Asswipe? Peter only mentioned the name once and he wasn’t specific. He didn’t even give a last name and she refused to bring up the topic again to fill her own selfish needs.

 

She poured through sex offender websites, trying to match vague dates with plausible locations. The sheer number of offenders listed made her fists clench and her teeth grind. When that was unsuccessful, she searched through police reports, first digital then physical. Luckily, she could be surprisingly resourceful when she wanted to be.

 

She knew the Parkers reported it, so there must have been some type of paper trial. But all of her searches turned up empty. There was simply nothing on record regarding a Skip in Queens.

 

After hours of searching and absolutely nothing to show for it, she came to the sudden realization that at the time he was likely a minor too.

 

Then she wanted to punch the wall for a whole different reason.

 

-*-

 

_“Go down three blocks, turn left on Burling and it will be on your right.”_

MJ shook her head at Peter’s voice filtering through her speakers. She wasn’t sure what it was about the Spider-Man costume that made little, old ladies ask for directions. At least the night was mundane enough she could finish her stats homework.

 

The police scanner next to her crackled to life. _10-80…progress…on Atlantic…ckaway._

MJ immediately grabbed her headset and rolled over to the scanner. “Spider-Man! Police chase in progress. Sounds like it’s heading down Atlantic towards Rockaway Boulevard.”

 

She was careful to never use Peter’s real name over the com system. Unlike the original dimwit duo, it was something she immediately assumed would be the smart thing to do. She still remembered the night a few months ago when she had grabbed the microphone from Ned’s hand after he had called out to Peter and said something along the lines of, “Hey morons, don’t you think we should use code names in case someone is listening in?”

 

 _“Police chase! Roger that!”_ Peter’s voice filtered through her headset.

 

She closed her stats assignment and brought up the live feed from Spider-Man’s mask, watching the night sky bob before her as he bounded over buildings.

 

Adrenaline drenched moments like this were probably the most content she felt in their relationship.

 

The irony was not lost on her.

 

-*-

 

Halloween was probably the dumbest thing MJ had ever experienced. She leaned against the wall of whatever frat house her classmate dragged her to and slowly polished off her third drink. Watching the drunken idiots around her, MJ questioned Columbia’s six percent acceptance rate and wondered who the hell they rejected.

 

This was when she truly missed Peter’s company. He was jovial and kind and killed it at first impressions. It was the perfect yin to her yang. Unfortunately, Ned begged Peter to join him at a party at NYU, with comments about being an awesome wingman, and Michelle figured a bit of bro time was in order.

 

She checked her phone, relieved to find it was four minutes after midnight. Good, she satisfactorily fulfilled her friend obligations. She quickly tossed her solo cup in the nearest garbage bag, muttered a few goodbyes, and headed back to her dorm room.

 

Face clean and dressed in PJs, she was placing a mug of water on the ledge next to the bed when Peter came crashing to the floor beside her fully dressed in his Spider-Man suit.

 

“Jesus Christ!” MJ jumped back against the loft bed.

 

Peter quickly jumped to his feet and placed his hands on his hips. “Oh! Hey MJ!” God, was he posing?

 

She turned back around to plug in her phone. “If you are going to start doing that, I’m going to start locking my window.” She was way too tipsy for this shit.

 

When he spoke again, his s’s were slightly slurred. “That’ss a shitty hello.”

 

She quickly whipped her head around. “Are you drunk as Spid-“ MJ looked him up and down. The outfit slightly bagged around his torso, and it had a very clear cheap polyester vibe to it. “…What the hell are you wearing?”

 

Peter easily pulled the mask off, the remake not nearly as formfitting as the original. “My Halloween costume. It’s was Ned’s idea.”

 

“Yeah, well, remind me to kill Ned.”

 

Peter walked towards her with the single minded focus of a drunk trying to prove they weren’t drunk. “C’mon. You have to admit it’s kind of funny,” he smiled as he wrapped his arms around MJ.

 

MJ raised her eyebrows and set her jaw. "Mmm-hmm.”

 

He leaned towards her and turned his head to meet her lips. She quickly reciprocated. Goddammit, she had a point to prove but she was always hornier after drinking.

 

Tasting a cloying sweetness on her tongue, she leaned back and scrunched her face. “What is that?”

 

When Peter openly smiled, she noticed his teeth were ever so slightly tinted blue. “Jell-O shotss. They’re awessome.” There were the slurred ‘s’ again.

 

“Yeah, okay, let’s go to bed,” she turned towards the ladder, only to be physically lifted and placed in the desk chair under the bed.

 

“Nuh-uh. I have other plans,” Peter countered, kissing her deep into the chair. She could feel him keeping the chair still as he continued to kiss her with scarcely restrained power.  When she finally broke away for air, he took the opportunity to remove her shirt continued to kiss lower.

 

By the time he reached her hip, she fumbled her way out of her pajama bottoms. He slowly moved downward, until he was kneeling in front of her and reaching his arms around her lower back to hold her steady.

 

Gripping his shoulders, she vocalized her pleasure when he finally hit her spot. Slowly pulling her apart bit by bit, he continued the ministrations until she was panting for release. Almost too quickly, waves of arousal swept through her trembling body.

 

Afterward, she melted against the chair looked blearily down at him, easily returning his smile. “That…that was good.”

 

Still clothed in the stupid Spider-Man costume, Peter sat on his heels. “I’m glad…because I was thinking…hoping that maybe it could be my turn.”

 

Her body still liquid, MJ blinked. “What?” Maybe she just misunderstood. Alcohol had a funny way of slightly distorting reality like that.

 

Peter looked away and scratched his upper arm through the costume. “You know. I think I’m ready to try again.”

 

MJ furrowed her brow. “Seriously? I’m not sure it’s a good idea.” It had only been two weeks since their last miserably failed attempt.

 

Peter continued to stare at the corner of the room just over her shoulder. The lack of eye contact didn’t help convince her.

 

He took a deep breath and spoke deliberately, “I think with the lights on and in the chair…I think I really want to try.” MJ could practically see him trying to pick out the right words in his alcohol hazed mind.

 

Peter paused for a moment then looked at her with wide eyes. “Unless, if you don’t want to,” he added quickly as if the thought just occurred to him.

 

“No, no. That’s not it,” MJ immediately reassured.

 

Peter was always considerate like that. He checked and double checked for consent even in moments where she would have thought her languid body and hums of desire would have made it obvious. If she hadn’t known the sordid reasons behind it, she would have likely thought she had happened to find the most conscientious boyfriend ever.

 

“It’s just…you’re drunk. And I’m definitely not sober,” MJ explained as she sat up in the chair.

 

He looked down at the ground. “I’m not that drunk,” he muttered. They remained in silence for a moment until Peter looked back up and finally made eye contact. “I think this may be the only way,” he said with sickening clarity.

 

She thought about the purposeful way Peter moved towards her from the moment he crashed into her room. The asshole had probably been planning this all night. Damn boys and their lack of communication skills.

 

MJ slid off the chair and knelt in front of him. “I’m just worried it’s not a good idea. But you know yourself better than I do. I trust you.”

 

Peter blinked at her words, before wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and earnestly kissing her. “I love you,” he breathed.

 

“Of course you do.”

 

Together, they made quick work of the off brand Spider-Man costume. MJ bunched it up and purposefully threw it in the trashcan. When she turned back around, she appreciated the sight of Peter nude in the chair before her. She placed her hands on his knees and slowly knelt down, ignoring the bite of cold cement against her skin.

 

Leaning forward, she placed a slow kiss against his upper thigh, a hairsbreadth away from his member.

 

And Peter promptly vomited blue over the side of the chair.

 

Goddammit. She really hated being right sometimes.

 

-*-

 

The next morning, MJ silently made two cups of coffee and grabbed a bottle of Advil, before joining Peter back in bed.

 

Blearily, Peter pulled himself up against the wall and held the warm cup in both hands, rejecting the bottle of pain meds with a shake of his head.

 

MJ tossed the bottle on the chair below her and settled beside Peter. She silently sipped her own coffee for a few minutes, replaying the previous night’s events in her head. Peter remained still, clearly lost in his own thoughts.

 

MJ broke the silence. “We need to figure out a better way to do this.”

 

Peter tensed beside her. “I’m trying,” he whispered into his full cup of coffee.

 

“That’s not what I’m saying.” She placed a hand on his knee. “ _We_ need to figure out a better way. There are two of us in this relationship. We can figure this out. Together.”

 

Peter looked over at her, eyebrows raised in confusion. She met his gaze with her own, pursing her lips at his utter lack of comprehension. Right, boys. Need to spell it out.

 

“That means no more secrets. No more trying to push through it. No more surprise ambushes. I’m part of this too now. And I’m here to help.”

 

Looking ashamed, Peter glanced back down at his coffee. He set his jaw and nodded.

 

She squeezed his knee in return. “Good.”

 

-*-

 

The two of them were sprawled across the bottom bunk of his bunk bed, unpleasantly full from a second thanksgiving dinner in one weekend. Her parents and May refused to relinquish the holiday, leaving Peter and her navigating two family dinners back-to-back. Luckily, May was nice enough to volunteer to do it on Friday, though MJ was pretty certain that was because she had to work on Thursday anyway.

 

She was lying fully on top of Peter, head cradled under his chin and fingers intertwined with his. She enjoyed rare, calm moments like this, where university and Spider-Man seemed so far away. The only thing she enjoyed more was having the ability to destroy it all with one question.

 

Rubbing her thumb across the back of his hand, she casually asked, “So what do you think about when you masturbate?”

 

Peter instantly choked on nothing, causing her to shake with laughter.

 

“What?!” he squeaked.

 

“C’mon,” she encouraged in between her chuckles. “You must think about something.” She already knew Peter didn’t enjoy porn. Once, she mentioned watching it together, but his face shut down so quick that she immediately left her sentence hanging and instead finished the thought with soft kisses to bring his attention back to her.

 

But she wasn’t going to think about that and the plausible reasons behind it too hard. She didn’t want to lose easy calm between them as they slowly digested the pounds of turkey in their stomach.

 

She leaned over, hovering her head above his. “So, what do ya think about?”

 

“You.” Peter mischievously smiled.

 

MJ rolled her eyes. “Fine, be a sap. Before dating me, what did you think about?”

 

Peter’s eyes went wide and red immediately flushed his cheeks, causing MJ to laugh again. She rolled off of him and laughed into the wall. “Seriously? Creepy, dude.”

 

Collecting herself, she looked at him and dramatically wiped a tear from her eye. “That’s okay. I thought about you too.”

 

Peter raised his eyebrows at that. “You-“

 

“Well, yeah,” she shrugged. “You’re cute.” She paused for a moment. “Don’t tell anyone I said that,” she threatened, narrowing her eyes.

 

“Never,” he promised, placing chaste kiss on her lips.

 

She pulled apart and leaned back against the wall. “Do you think you can show me? Like, do you think we could…” she gestured at their private parts before trailing off, suddenly feeling silly for mentioning the idea.

 

To her surprise, he considered it for a second. “Yeah. Yeah, I think that’d be okay.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Peter smiled. “Yeah,” he confirmed.

 

“Awesome,” she breathed, pushing him against the bed with a firm kiss. They continued kissing each other, hands roaming over clothes, until they were both sweaty and bothered.

 

They quickly removed their clothes and lay side by side next to each other. MJ looked over at Peter and slowly began to touch herself. When she glanced down, she saw he was doing the same. Gradually, she moved into the movements of her own fingers, enjoying the way Peter watched her stretch and writhe.

 

Hearing Peter pant beside her, she slowed her pace. She reached over and hovered her free hand over his.

 

“Can I?” She asked before touching.

 

Face flushed, Peter frantically nodded.

 

She placed her hand around his own, not able to fully close it, and easily moved with him. Double checking, she glanced back at Peter’s face, happy to see him watching her hand with open intensity. Closing her eyes, she continued to rub herself, her free hand on the other side easily keeping up with his rhythm.

 

Man, she really wished she had her vibrator. Trying to do different movements with each hand was more mentally taxing than she expected. Especially when half of her brain was swept away in ecstasy.

 

Eventually, when she found a good pace, she rode through her orgasm, panting with each wave. She felt Peter tense next to her, signaling his own release.

 

MJ lazily turned her body to face him, smiling at the sight of him fully relaxed against the bed. “See? Together,” she stated. She lightly patted his chest a few times, avoiding the mess they had created.

 

“Michelle?” Peter didn’t bother opening his eyes.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Stop gloating.”

 

MJ smirked. Fine, asshole. Don’t acknowledge her awesomeness. She already knew she rocked this girlfriend thing.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly wasn't planning a sequel when I wrote 'Uncharted Territory', but the reception was so positive that when this came to mind I wanted to see how it played out. I hope it lives up to first one and doesn't seem too drawn out. Again comments and kudos are life...and who knows? Evidently, this is a series now...


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